Take an Umbrella, It's Raining
by SallySorrell
Summary: A one-shot series about all the beautiful romances and friendships within Pawnee. Title kindly borrowed from The Curious Savage, which is a fantastic play everyone should read. Chapter One - Ann is still having trouble finding the perfect father, since dating herself is so confusing. Spoilers through 'Ann's Desicion', kind of. Enjoy!


Immediately, Ann regretted even _considering_ opening her front door. She was hoping it would be Leslie, around to apologize for the thousandth time…

"So, Leslie told me you wanted to be a single mom."

In her doorway, desperately straining so at least his fedora would brush the top of the door frame, was Tom.

"Oh, my god. She _promised_ me not to…"

"Okay, no. She didn't tell _me_, but I heard it on _Crazy Ira and The Douche_. Which is kind of the same thing."

Ann returned to her couch, waving for Tom to leave, or shut the door, or do something other than stand and stare. "Tom, please. I've had a really… weird day."

"Hey, Boo." Somehow, he interpreted her gesture entirely wrong, and joined her on the couch, "I'm just stopping by to wish you luck, alright?"

Ann made sure to sound sarcastic:

"Really?" She scooted slowly backward, and hoped he didn't notice.

"And I brought you something." He closed the gap, producing a box from behind his back. Ann wondered how she didn't expect this, or notice it sooner.

"I'm not gonna open it." She studied the wrapping; a glossy pink and blue checkerboard. She doubted it was appropriate, by any desperate definition of the word.

"That's a shame." His voice mocked itself, "Anyway, it's a baby-beanie. Well, two of them, because you seem like the kind of person who would want twins. And there's a gift-card to get 'em embroidered. Because I knew you wouldn't name both kids 'Tommy.'"

Ann smiled, and was immediately afraid it looked genuine. She busied herself by moving the box to her dining table instead. Maybe she would open it, but only after she chased Tom out.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Anytime."

"That's _really_ the reason you came by?"

"Just to see you… _and_ I was hoping you'd give me another chance."

"Goodbye, Tom."

"Noooo! Really… can I just look at your list so far? Leslie _did_ say there was a list… I wanted to see who I was up against…"

"I am _not_ adding you to it. Not in a million years."

"Really, _The Douche_? I treated you _way_ better than he would."

Ann rolled her eyes. Knowing Tom was right, she retrieved the list from her briefcase, where it already found a way of hiding behind a hundred other pages and pamphlets.

She passed it to him, mostly to stop the eerie smile which was infecting his face.

"Oh… you _actually_ picked _The Douche_?" he tapped on the name, printed and neatly highlighted at the top of the page, "I thought that was a joke!"

"He was really sweet."

"Gross." Tom sounded like he was correcting her, "He was, and always is, gross. Hasn't spending way too much time with Leslie taught you anything? He's not a guy who would value you, Ann. As a beautiful woman or a brilliant human being. You can do _so _much better."

"Not with you."

"Okidokie, but someone else. We can pull a name out of my stylish hat." He removed the fedora, and reached to tear Ann's list. She waved him off, which he understood correctly this time.

He put his hands up in playful surrender, after successfully tossing the hat onto Ann's head. She wasn't sure why she left it on. It was slightly crooked, and it blocked more of her vision than she would normally surrender to style.

"But you should think about it."

"Goodbye, Tom." Her answer was habit, and was barely forceful this repetition.

He continued, undeterred, "Hey, you wouldn't have to live with me, because we both know that failed. I said _single_ mom, right? Suit yourself."

Tom stood and moved slowly to the door, which no one bothered to close earlier.

"Date yourself, marry yourself, raise the kids yourself, that's fine. But even a nurse as _fine_ as you can't have them by yourself."

Internally, Ann scolded herself for being so reckless. It always, _always_, sent her down a slippery ski-hill and into a pit of tigers. Leslie used that exact analogy once, and Ann tried vainly to adhere to better advice.

_Vainly_. She caught Tom's hand and had no difficulty twirling him to face her. He stood right at her eye-level, which she found refreshing.

"Somewhere in there… I'm sure you said the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"That's confusing. I don't have a degree in Women."

Ann tilted her head and huffed:

"Don't ruin it."

Normally, Tom knew that if Ann was shutting him up, she was in love with him, at least momentarily. Fine.

"So you'll think about it?"

He reached for her other hand, and they swayed gently, like one of those wishing-flowers, trembling before being sent on its mission.

Ann replaced the hat on Tom's head, and chose to remain silent.

"Nah, keep it. I like Hipster Ann." He tossed it again, but missed this time. Ann didn't retrieve it; she just stood and enjoyed the indecision, and their hands, pressed smoothly together, and his voice when he spoke quietly and politely.

"Anyway," he began, prompting her to let go, "Our kids will be gorgeous. And smart."

She scooped up the fedora, gave him a half smile, and chose _not_ to tell him goodbye. He walked out on his own, and she promised to consider it.


End file.
